Day Sixteen 2013

Wednesdays are like Mondays in the middle of the week. ~Lee Fox Williams

Another soggy day. Snow in the forecast for Thursday—1 to 4 inches.

Neighbor kitty Lily wants inside our house but settles for the cushion on the wicker rocker by the front door.

Sky, road, truck. Can you say gray?

Dropping off and picking up hubby today. Our (old) car is in the shop again, needing a new (expensive) compressor. I told Neil by the time we have all the parts replaced, we’ll have a new car.

Wednesday is ‘senior’ day at Fazoli’s, and we are happy to qualify (55+) so we can get this yummy meal (drink included) for $2.99. You can also choose pasta Alfredo (heart attack on a plate). Fazoli’s is the only spaghetti sauce I like besides my dad’s recipe. We ended up eating supper right after Neil got off work at 4:30. I think this completes our geezer-hood.

No such thing, ever, as a ‘speedy checkout’ at Wal-Mart, especially when everybody is there buying milk and bread for the impending blizzard. We wouldn’t have been in here at all if I hadn’t been out of my allergy med, and Neil figured he’d buy some ammo for his dad’s old rifle or shotgun, I forget which. (He says the bullets are called ‘shorts’ and did manage to get a couple boxes.) Why am I telling you this? I have no idea. Happy hump day!

Day Two Hundred Forty One 2012

We enjoyed a spaghetti dinner at Fazoli’s this evening, and this is how my hubby Neil eats his pasta—he uses a spoon to twirl it onto a fork, which he says/argues is the correct way to eat spaghetti. I, on the other hand, cut my spaghetti (hack it to pieces, he claims)  into bite sized forkfuls and think nothing of it. Different process, same results, I say. He says it tastes better his way. I roll my eyes. We agree to disagree, and now we’re both stuffed with spaghetti.  È squisito!