some HELLish blasts from the past...

Sasquatch seems taken over by ennui this weekend. I have no idea what's the matter, but she hasn't been interested in the Game Show Channel, nor the Golf Channel, despite its retrospectives of past Masters Tournaments (her favorite), nor even the Crime Channel, although I'm a little relieved she doesn't want to watch that one. She prefers to spend her time in quiet contemplation, so I won't disturb her. Perhaps she's undergoing some sort of spiritual awakening, or maybe she's just reviewing past loves...Rolf, Dr G, H and A...as some kind of Spring mind catharsis. She's a complex being, not easily understood. It may be that she senses the end of the remodeling project and knows that H and A will no longer be visiting on a regular basis. In fact, A bid us farewell when he left last night, so I suspect we've seen the last of him. I shall miss him, with his light-hearted ways and those little tricks he used to play on H.

Since Sas was ignoring me, I thought I'd see what was happening in HELL. Oh my. As I've mentioned, I've been getting a lot of attention there, for whatever reason, and this visit revealed a number of messages. Some of the messages were from ones that I had not corresponded with for months, like Shih-tzu4u2u8u. He wondered if I was still in jail so I told him no, I'd gotten out with the help of a few well-placed bribes. He seemed delighted by this news and wanted to know if I'd reconsidered his offer to come over 3 or 4 times a week to help me with my "boredom" problem. I told him I had not reconsidered and invited him to crawl back under his rock. This seemed to hurt his feelings, but I'm sure he'll come sniffing around again one day.

And then there was a very interesting message from R. I don't believe I've mentioned him here before. He and I exchanged a few most pleasant messages back when I first discovered HELL. He writes an excellent message...funny, spelled and punctuated correctly, coherent, and he uses multisyllabic words! Unfortunately, he lives hundreds of miles from me, as all the interesting ones have, but he's even farther than most. When we corresponded before, we agreed that there was little possibility that either of us would ever have a reason to visit the other's city of residence and so decided further correspondence would be of little value. As a result, I was surprised to see a message from him. At first, I thought perhaps he'd gotten me confused with someone else, but then it was clear that he hadn't. He asked some questions that let me know he remembered our previous correspondence and provided some chatty news of himself. Well, I answered his questions and let it go at that, thinking I wouldn't hear anything further. But, then there was another message and so now, I guess I can have a penpal from HELL if I so desire...but I'm not so sure that I do. I have little time for that, what with working and remodeling, and perfecting recipes and blogging...Penpal from HELL...how ludicrous that sounds.

There were a couple of new gentlemen too, although gentleman is not the word for one of them. His moniker was something I cannot reveal...it had to do with an action he'd like to perform (4u) upon a vulgar word for a portion of the feminine anatomy. He was vile and it was not difficult at all to delete his message. I was a little surprised that the administrators of HELL let him use that moniker, considering how stringent they are about photos...

And then there was a message from someone who addressed me as his fair lady...well, that put me off right away. He wanted to see a picture of my face, but would not demand one yet. (!) His "hobby" was engaging in "playful banter with worthy opponents..." Ugh. And he thought, based upon my profile, which gave him "a chuckle or two" that I would be a most worthy opponent. Of course, it was not his intent to cause harm or injury, except to my "bruised ego" when he "stomped" me! I let him know, but quick, that if he's interested in engaging in banter or anything else, he'd be wise to leave off the talk of bruising egos by stomping...And so, fearing emasculation, he sent an apology immediately. I've ignored him and will continue to do so until he slinks away. Little does he know that had I decided to go along with his banter idea, he would have been the one with a bruised ego, or quite possibly worse. Stomp me indeed.

--Ina

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.

Sasquatch reminded me of the quote by Maria, from The Twelfth Night, which I use as my title for today. It is also my purpose, and the purpose of my most charming and funny gentleman caller, with whom I hope to split huge winnings from a Derby victory, that our horse of that color makes a speedy recovery and suffers no lasting damage from his recent small setback. We remain optimistic that he will quickly regain his form and will go on to more thrilling wins in the Sport of Kings. And if not, then they can shoot him for all I care, and while I haven't discussed this possibility with my GC, I suspect he shares my sentiment. If he doesn't, I'm sure he'll let me know in no uncertain terms. (You will, won't you, honey?)

Today is a beautiful day in our city by the river and Sas and I wandered the grounds earlier, sniffing for rabbits and keeping an alert eye out for squirrels. The birds are singing and flowers are blooming and we felt revitalized with the arrival of Spring. (Of course it's supposed to snow tomorrow, but we live in the moment as much as possible and so will not let this distressing prediction cast a pall on our enjoyment of this day.)

Narcissus poeticus recurvus

This charming and very fragrant daffodil is one I found growing in the woods behind the house. I shamelessly dug up a few of the bulbs to plant in my yard, and I'm glad I did because some idiot came along and built ugly houses there and killed the daffodils! They have flourished and spread in my yard and I should cut some to take to the office tomorrow.

After our excursion outside, Sas and I settled in to await H, who was supposed to be here early to finish(!) up my floor. Well, Sas quickly tired of waiting and decided a nap was in order, and while I was tempted by the idea of a nap, I also wanted to work on a recipe I've been mulling over. And so I set to work. There's a traditional dessert in Kentucky called Derby Pie, which has walnuts and chocolate and eggs and butter and sugar, of course. It's quite rich, but delicious in small slices with whipped cream, just to gild the lily. Buford had heard of something called a Derby Pie milkshake and he and I agreed that it sounded like a wonderful thing indeed. It occurred to me that Derby Pie ice cream might be even better and so that was the recipe I set out to perfect. First, I had to make a Derby Pie, of course, but, one is not allowed to call it Derby Pie since that is a very protected trademark and the owners of the trademark have no sense of humor whatsoever. Well, I've never been a scoff-law, so I decided to call my Derby Pie Supertrifecta Pie, which conveys the racing theme and also hints at the awesomeness of the dessert. It was my idea that I'd bake the pie and when it was thoroughly cooled, I'd chop it up and mix it into the almost fully churned vanilla ice cream, thus chunks of the pie would remain intact. And that's what I did, and we have a winner! This will be a perfect dessert to take to a Derby party and I'm excited by that idea and more than a little proud of myself. Sasquatch asked vigorously to taste the ice cream and so I gave in and let her have a small spoonful...not too much because chocolate isn't good for dogs, plus 67 pounds!

She approved.

H finally arrived and I am certain he can finish the floor today. He also promises to install my new light fixtures and that cannot happen soon enough. I've been working in a dim kitchen for so long I fear my eyesight is failing. But the new serpentine ceiling fixture with halogen spotlights should provide ample task lighting, if it ever gets installed...

--Ina