Home Run

There was no convenient show time any movie we wanted to see at our local theater, but since the temperature was pushing 100,  I searched a little farther afield and found a showing of Spiderman not too far away. "But will they have cheese popcorn?" Heidi wanted to know, because ever since our neighborhood theater added that to the menu, we haven't gone anywhere else, which is not a coincidence.

I searched the chain's website, but a full menu was not available.

"How about Garrett's?" I suggested, since we would be close to the mall, but a stop there was too much time and trouble. "That grocery store with the super cheesy corn is right over there," I said next.

Heidi shrugged unconvinced, "I guess so, if we have time," she sighed.

"Why don't we just see what they have there?" I asked, and in the end, that is what we decided to do.

Despite the heat and the opening of the live action version of The Lion King, the theater was dead, and we bought our tickets and went directly to the concession stand without delay. There on the menu was an item called "Cheetos Popcorn", which was basically a very cheesy popcorn tossed with actual Cheetos.

Good enough!

Reunited!

I was out of the house before 8:30 this morning, off to pick up our CSA share, get my hair cut, and have the car washed all before meeting our friend Mary for a quick stop at school and then lunch in the new food hall now known as Ballston Quarter Market.

The biggest surprise of the day was waiting for me when I hopped back in the car after it was clean. There, on the back seat, was my mitten!

A New Thing

We had some shrimp and scallops in the freezer, so I promised Heidi risotto, one of her favorites. At the garden I picked corn and okra and peppers and tomatoes, so I was feeling a bit of a southern vibe.

The solution? Fusion!

I made a risotto that started with onions, peppers, and celery and was finished with shaved okra, corn, and tomatoes. The dish came out like a silky dirty rice with gumbo overtones and the seafood with lemon, garlic, and basil was very complimentary.

Verdict?

Success! Would totally make again.

Summer Chores

By 9 AM the 4 happy birthday texts of the day were sent, the coffee was made, the dog was walked, the garden was weeded, the tomatoes, okra, corn, and peppers were picked, the flowers on the deck and out front were watered, the robin's nest was removed from the eaves, and I was ready to shower.

It's good to be home! 

My Navigator

In general? I couldn't be more satisfied with the navigation app on my phone. Offering three routes, indicating congestion whether slow traffic or stop-and-go, suggesting time-saving changes enroute, and always giving me my trip mileage and estimated arrival time, I couldn't ask for more. So, when today the app recommended getting off a clear interstate in favor of some local roads, not only did I not hesitate, I gleefully steered toward the opportunity to explore a new and quicker way home.

Uhhh... that was until it directed me into a gas station parking lot, around a fast food drive thru, back the way we had just come, into a U turn at an outlet mall and right back onto the interstate. And our ETA never changed.

Laughing about it later with my brother and sister and mom, we all agreed that my destiny had changed when I took that exit. What actually happened was not what would have happened had we continued forward-- the time, the vehicles, the drivers were all reshuffled, and we drove on with a new deck, arriving safely at home.

Nailed It

The nail salon was full when the four of us walked in a little after noon today, and the young man who did my mani-pedi seemed a little put out to be doing any hands-on work. I had seen him there before, and his role was usually cashier, clean up, and general schmoozer. Unlike most of the nail technicians I have had in the past, who wanted to turn the chair as quickly as possible, this guy took several breaks, ostensibly to allow my feet to soak or my legs to moisturize. When he was at my feet however, he was relatively charming.

Twenty-something, well-muscled, heavily tattooed, and quite deferential to his granny, the elderly Vietnamese woman who ran the salon, he was especially curious about the relationship between Louise, Gary, Heidi, and I. "Well," I explained, "we're married," I gestured to Heidi and me, "and these are her parents."

"Cool!" he said. "How long have you been married?"

"We've been together 21 years," I told him, "and married 5."

"Did you wait until it was, like, legal, to get married?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," I answered.

"But did you, like, get married right away, as soon as you could?"

"Pretty much," I nodded.

"Well, that is awesome!" he said, and then went off to do something else.

Somehow? It didn't bother me at all.

One Woman's Treasure

I love a good junk, er antique, shop. There's something very satisfying about poking around dusty displays hunting for treasure. Oh, the bounty I find is rarely a valuable item priced well below its worth; my reward is usually in spotting something I remember from my childhood that I haven't seen or thought of for decades.

Over the years I have been reunited, briefly, record albums, collectable glasses, Christmas plates, toys, and lunch boxes. Usually those items are priced a little too high for me to reacquire them, or at least high enough to make me consider why we parted in the first place. I do actually own a few things that are replicas of stuff we had when I was a kid.

The set of pyrex mixing bowls in turquoise and white with the farmer design is a prominent example. The largest bowl of that set is what my dad always used for popcorn when he made it on nights he was babysitting us. I can still remember dragging my finger through the salt and butter pooled at the bottom of the bowl when all that was left were the unpopped kernels.

Several years ago, my mom found sets of those bowls and gave them to the three of us for Christmas. You can bet I always put my popcorn in the popcorn bowl. And today, wasn't I surprised to find not something that I used to have, but rather something that I actually have now for sale in a junk, er, antique store.

Now that's a sign of age!