Mushroom Meredith

Gram is doing a bit better.  I suppose.  I saw her before I ventured off to the Cape for the Fourth.  She was happy to see me and I was able to make her laugh a bit.  I wheeled her to see Henrietta and Edna, my two fave biddies (other than Gram, of course).  Edna was wearing a lovely bracelet and I told her so.  She said, "Oh, thank you!  Do you know who gave this to me?"  Henrietta jumped in and said, "Edna, do you remember who gave that to you?  It was me!"  Edna smiled at me and said, "Henrietta gave it to me."  I asked if they had always been friends.  "We became friends on the inside."  Henrietta told me.  I told them that if they had met on the outside, they would have been great friends.  They smiled.  I hope to see them soon.

After the visit with Gram, I was off to Meggie's to help prepare for our weekend at the Cape.  My job was to clean the fruits and vegetables, make sandwiches and keep the Bridezilla cool.  I was chatting on the phone with Michelle when it came time to clean the mushrooms.  I put them in a bowl with water.  I said to Michelle, "I feel like I am cleaning a bunch of penis heads."  Meggie overheard this and rolled her eyes. The next morning over Bloody Mary's and a Cape Codder, the little Bridezilla told Vinnie what I had said about the mushrooms.  He said, "I am surprised you even knew what to do."  We laughed.  A few moments later he said, "That's why I saw you with your head in the sink!"  For the remainder of the weekend I was the butt of all mushroom jokes. Just call me Mushroom Meredith. 

My friends are perverts.

Morning walks with my F have continued.  My gym probably has my face on milk cartons. 

The FUPA continues to disappear.  I am pleased. My F has been walking the city for a few years now and has made friends along her route.  One is Jerry Powers, 73.  He is an adorable Scottish man who loves his wife.  She's from Italy.  He walks or rides his bicycle every day.  He swims too.  Initially, I think he was threatened by Michelle's new walking partner (me), but he has warmed up now that he realizes I have no intention of replacing him.  This morning after walking us across the bridge, we said our goodbyes. He looked at me and said, "Cheers!" Michelle made a deal with him that he could walk with her as long as he doesn't slow her down.  He slows her down.  But, she acts as though he doesn't.  Just one of many reasons why she's my F. 

To date, we haven't incorporated jogging into our daily walks. I think it would interfere with our sassy conversations. However, I did go for a solo walk/jog on Sunday or a "wog" as I like to call it.  I need to talk to my CF about the 5K she wants to run.  We will have to put down our glasses of wine and start wogging.  Baby steps. 

You'll never believe what I did yesterday.  I cooked.  Swear.   I offered to cook for a certain boy since he has cooked for me twice and he has been requesting that I make something.  It would be rude to say, "Noo." He seems to think I am a gourmet chef and just don't know it.  (This could be true.  I can make my Nana's coq au vin just like Bill Lang.) I decided on pizza.  I have never made pizza by myself.  Growing up, my parents would make my sister and I cook dinner on Wednesday nights.  We made pizza a few times.  Kath and Bill thought I enjoyed making pizza so much that they bought me a pizza maker for my 13th birthday.  I thanked them, went up to my room and proceeded to cry.  I so badly wanted a signet ring.  Tacky, but Meaghan had one and I coveted that bling.  Back to yesterday, I made sure to preheat the oven to 425 degrees.  I also made sure to incorporate protein into our meal since it is vital for muscle recovery.  So I have heard.  I sautéed chicken, rolled the dough the best I could and cut up some peppers and onions.  No mushrooms.  I even put some ricotta on my little masterpiece. 

Fancy, right?  Well.  When I went to put the pizza in the oven, the bitch wasn't even lukewarm.  I suppose I would have known this if I cooked on the regular.  However, my roommates have used the oven and it has worked for them.  I was planning to make turkey sandwiches instead.  My mom can make a mean sandwich.  So can I.  However, when my dinner companion arrived, he suggested we put the pizza in the toaster oven.  It worked! Maybe it would have tasted better from an actual oven, but then I wouldn't have had this story to tell. 

Next meal, hot ham water.

Hasta la proxima, bitches.

MM