The ultrasound revealed that the next baby will be a girl. A sister for Elise. I got the doctor to double check because there was a moment when I thought I saw something that resembled a wee tool but alas, I was wrong. Not to worry, plenty of time to produce a male heir.
Martha and Elise have gone to Waupaca for the weekend. I've been left at home and am trying hard to stay out of trouble. It's not easy. It may sound cruel but it is a little bit nice to have the house to myself. I'm always glad I have this (LINK) handy reference for times when I am alone. It's gotten me out of and into many a hairy situation. If you happen to pick up a copy you should go straight to the section on how to cook “Spaghetti Bolognese Divorce Style.” Priceless.
I entertained last night in the form of a casual get together. That's right, I hosted a party. Kelley and her gentleman friend, Dean, came over. Earlier that day I took the steaks out of the freezer and chopped up some vegetables. These steaks were a birthday gift from Martha's grandparents to me. Rosie bought them off the Internet and they came by FedEx packed in dry ice! Now that's what I call the perfect in-laws. I cooked the steaks on the barbeque. I'm not well known for my cooking skills but I will let you in on one secret to the art of cooking steak over charcoal. One should constantly brush the meat with water. It prevents the steak from getting dry or burning. Keep that under your hat for God's sake.
The culinary magic didn't stop there. Fuck no. Not long after the meat was cooking nicely the host came out with a bowl of vegetables that had marinated for hours in a ginger mandarin sauce. These vegetables were then skewered with wooden chop sticks that the host sharpened on a belt sander and soaked in water for a few hours. Again, water played a key role in the cooking. Soaking the wooden chop sticks means that they don't burn when the vegetable skewers are thrown onto the barbeque. “The man is a God damn genius,” I heard one of the guests whisper, or maybe the wind rustled the leaves on the oak tree making me think I heard something to that effect. It's happened before. The dozen beers I drank may have also had some influence. I doubt it though.
Much earlier in the day Martha sent me a text from Wisconsin. “Make sure everyone goes in the photo booth tonight.” We own a Polaroid photo booth and it is a rule that all visitors must have their mug shot taken in the booth. So, after we were done eating we followed the wife's orders and posed for the camera (LINK). The film expired in 2002, hence the quality issues but they don't make it anymore so this is as good as it gets. The experience is more important than the outcome. How many people can say they got drunk, ate perfectly cooked steak and then had their picture taken in the personal photo booth of a friend of their's?
There are many more stories to tell but it's hot right now (97°F/36°C) and I need to go cool off.
