Saturday, November 17, 2001

I need a wife...

I had a very busy day today. I did laundry, straightened up (this must be a regional thing-- this straigtening up= same thing as tidying elsewhere in USA) the house. Got called to the hospital-------did an OR case and then the dreaded Obstetrical Dep't. reared its ugly head. One epidural coming right up ! My call relief came at 5 PM (I had pre-arranged coverage) I scurried out the door got into the Rav, and made a beeline for Shickshiny. Once I was home I foo-foo'd, got back in the car, drove another 17 miles, and landed at the Microbrewery. And there he sat in all his glory! Mr. TOC looking as relaxed as ever-----basking in the limelight as usual. (The hardest part of his day was going to the mall for new shoes---------and even then, I directed that move. I bookmarked several acceptable pair on the Internet so he wouldn't come home with something bizarre.) What's wrong with this picture?

I'll tell you what's wrong with this picture----------------------------------I NEED A WIFE!

Friday, November 16, 2001

Wanted : Bin Laden and Theothercheek

Well, I did it. I pissed off the National Guard. How did I do it? It was easy. Two mornings ago I was minding my own business at the StopNRob...I was making my cappucinowhen I noticed a National Guardsman standing next to me. He wearing his camoflauge uniform and one of those fluffy black berets ( you know--- like the ones the "Green Berets" wore.) I looked at Mr. Guardsman and said, "You and 25 plastic pylons guarding the nuclear power plant--- oh, I feel safe."

If looks could kill you all would be sending sympathy cards to the Mr. today.

I can't help it. I was born this way.

Thursday, November 15, 2001

In the mood...

I picked up a CD set at Sam's this week. Ah! The sounds of Satchmo, Bing , and Frankie singing "It's Christmas Time!"

And, you ain't heard nothing till you've heard Satchmo recite "twas the night before Christmas....."

Sinatra, Armstrong, and Crosby--------whatta trio!

7 Days

Thanksgiving 2001 is exactly one week from today.There's a small matter of kitchen territory to hash out here in Shickshinny. For many years, it's been me and the Mr. preparing the holiday meals. (HE thinks he can cook; he can--- but only under the direction of none other than me.) He's the sloppiest cook in town. When he's at the stove, it's a flurry of pots, pans, papers, wrappers, etc. Now, I clean as I go. What a novel concept, huh?

This year things are different--I am sharing the kitchen with the infamous Bobthecorgi (who recently came out of a rather bad ordeal unscathed) Wearing our 50's aprons, we shall show the Mr. just how real cooks operate. It will be a flurry of activity here in NEPA!

I just know the table will be a magnificent display of outstanding home cookin' !!!!!!!!

The Mr. will just have to watch football and the Macy's Day Parade. OOH, what a shame!

Bob, we need a dinner bell or a small triangle to call the folks to dinner. Got one?

Kidnapping Update

We await further communication from the Dastardly Punk who has kidnapped the poor Corgi (and the damn kitten). So, what'll it take fella?

We are ready to come in with guns a blazing. Your kevlar will not protect you. We got them hollow point thingys. So there.

Wednesday, November 14, 2001

Kidnapping Update

Just as Det.Othercheek surmised. The kidnapper is a PUNK. He's contacted Dick D.O.C. His message to Dick D.O.C. "You'll never take me alive. " signed D.

Who said anything about alive, Punk? Dick D.O.C. is on the case. Stay tuned.

"....fat bastard with no legs.......missing over 48 hours!"

It was a routine morning at the office. I sat shuffling through some paper work and then the phone rang. "...fat bastard ...no legs...been missing over 48 hours." there was a sense of urgency and distress in Mr. Sami's voice. Seems that BobtheCorgi's been missing before but never for this long. Shortly after theCorgi was declared missing (and this was after an intense search of the computer room at the Corgi residence) Mr. Sami received a phone call. Amidst the static he stated that he could hear a voice with a foreign accent saying, "I've got the Corgi and the damn kitten. Do not call the police. I'll be in touch."

After deliberating with the Corgi children he called me, Det. OtherCheek.I told him to sit tight and stay close to the phone. I think we'll be hearing from the kidnapper again.

Things change quickly around here. Det. OtherCheek is on the case. The Corgi must be found (oh, yeah and the damn kitten, too)

Magnus

Magnus the Springer Spaniel, namesake of Magnus Ver Magnusson (one of the world's strongest men) got some fabulous news last evening! He's had a beer named after him! MAGNUS BREW!!!

Daughter of theothercheek, Susan is the ass't manager of the brand new only-one-in-town: Black Rock Brewing Company.The microbrewery is opening Nov. 19th in Wilkes Barre, Pa. (The brewery was a dream that has become a reality for local 35 yr old former stock broker. ) With the opening less than a week away, the task of naming the onsite brewed beers came to the forefront. S. threw out the idea of naming one of the beers after our dog. It was a hit! So, Magnus Brew came into being------ it's a strong, dark, ale (more details to follow)

So, if your ever in Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania belly up to the bar at the Black Rock Microbrewery located at 380 Coal St. -- and have yourself a MAGNUS!

Tuesday, November 13, 2001

9 days and counting...

The Master List was finished today. All systems are go! Nine days till the huge event-- there will be enough food here for a small army. Turkey , ham, kielbasa, and all all the trimmings. And, don't forget the dessert buffet-------now there's the part I love the most. Me, I 'm a "junk food " junkie. I can skip the whole meal thing and head right to the desserts. Yum! Rice pudding, pies, rice krispie treats. It's heaven on earth!

On the contrary, I decided years ago what my own personal hell would be like -------- I'll be driving a mini-van. There's not gonna be any dessert. Just well balanced meals--------(perish the thought) I'll be married to the same guy who will be even more deaf or deefer in hell. S.H. will be my next door neighbor.She'll still have red hair and be annoying as hell-----in hell. I'll have no computer (Hence, no blogging) And, it'll be hotter than hell. Kinda makes me want to be good--------well, pretty good. Very good is just not my nature.

Sunday, November 11, 2001

Seems like yesterday...

George Harrison has brain cancer. He's being treated ( under an assumed name) in a NYC hospital. It seems like just yesterday the Fab Four arrived from England. o:(

Rutabaga=good

Won't Susan be delighted on November 22 whn she finds MASHED RUTABAGA on the dining room table? Rutabaga=good !

It's in the genes...
Time for a Son of Bobthecorgi/Thesouplady story
When Son of Bob was just a little guy, he was fascinated by none other than Julia Child. Once after watching an episode of Julia "first you wash the chicken" (I can listen to her speak for hours!) , he marched himself into the Corgi kitchen, put his hands on his hips, and demanded of his mother---

"WHY DON'T WE EVER HAVE VEAL PICCATA?"

A man of discerning tastes at such a young age! I tell you --- it's in the genes

Uh oh...Guess who's coming to the dessert buffet on Thanksgiving?
Thanksgiving Countdown = 11 days

Most of you know that I have a daughter, Susan, who is named after someone we all know and love But, what you probably don't know that she has become " seriously involved" with a nice young man. Here's where the "uh-oh" comes into play.

The daughter and the young man have been wanting to get the parents together. Being the smartie pants that I am, I thought "what better time than Thanksgiving Eve for the big meeting?". I whipped up a bunch of invitations and sent one of them to the B. Family. AND THEN I FOUND OUT ABOUT HER....

OH, I could handle the situation if she looked like Morgan Fairchild, had the wealth of Rosie O'Donnell , or was a decorating guru like our Martha. Those things I could take in my stride------but nooooooooooooooo.... the mother of the young man is (and I cower as I say it) A CLEAN FREAK.

Now what am I going to do? We don't exactly wallow in dirt here but we do have a less than sterling attitude towards cleaning. I've started to look around and it ain't pretty. Random cobwebbies (Sue, bring the Webster with you on Thanksgiving morning), the fuzzy perimeter on the rugs, and animal hair everywhere. I am thankful we had the foresight to put dimmer switches on all the lights.

That's right, Mrs. Clean is coming here to Shickshinny. Me and my big ideas---cheesh.