Here's How It Went Down...

Nothing to see here. Move along. The e-mail came through this morning: I can make egg drop for you today. Meet at car dealer 2:30; I give you egg – 2 dozen.

I instantly sent my reply: The fuzz may have me followed. If we need to abort, I will send you a text message with code words CRACKED EGG. 

At 2:30 I glided my car alongside a parked SUV, motors running. 

"You got the cash?"

"Right here. You got the goods?"

There was a quick exchange through the car windows, a furtive glance to see who may have been watching, then we each slid our windows up and pulled away.

Drug deal in Madison? Nah, just me buying some local farm fresh eggs from a friend. 

But I'd still prefer the fuzz didn't hear about it.

Cheers,

Dena

Facebook vs. LinkedIn

It was a cozy domestic scene in the Harris household last night. Snuggled on the couch, dividing our attention between watching the episode of GLEE that we'd taped and typing away at the laptops on each of our laps. Very Norman Rockwell.

Blair mentioned a mutual friend of ours had updated his profile. "His background is really impressive," he said. 

"Let me look," I said. I logged into Facebook and pulled up the friend's profile. "Are you under Info? I don't see anything."

"I guess," said Blair. "It's right--oh geez. You're on Facebook. Woman, I'm on LinkedIn."

We decided that pretty much sums up the differences in our marriage and personalities - whether we go by default to Facebook versus LinkedIn. Revealing, no?

Cheers,

Dena 

Writing A Short Story

I've spent the last week immersed in writing a short story. I'm at about 3,000 words in and the first draft is almost finished. Sci-fi. An idea I've had for years as a novel that I'm testing out first as a short.

What I've discovered is that while my head is in the world of story, I don't feel much like doing other writing and my blog is taking a hit. 

Just to throw something new on the page, here's a quick list of highlights and lessons from this past week: 

• Lesson #1: All soy chicken is not made equal. Last week I made "chicken" burritos that had us salivating for more. I made them again last night with a different brand of soy chicken. Absolutely gross. Who knew?
• There be squash! Our square garden has LARGE LEAFY GREEN THINGS growing in at least half the squares. I told Blair I hoped we harvested a lot of squash. His reply: "This is further than we've ever come before so everything could die tomorrow and I'd still count it as a win." Love that man of mine. 
• Lesson #2: I CAN and WILL kill most plants under my care. One of three of the rose plants I planted is already dead. Pretty sure Iris Sutcliffe owes me some money on that bet. 
• Lucy has taken to hiding in the back of my office closet. Hurt feelings? Not feeling well? Needs a quiet, restful place to plot my demise? Hard to tell...
• My editor sent me the back cover copy for my book. Can't wait to see the whole thing put together. 
• Lesson #3: I have GOT to figure out a way to get more yoga back in my routine. I bent at the waist the other day and hamstrings were so tight I couldn't touch the floor. NOT GOOD. 
• Lesson #4: It's time to stop fooling myself that I'm going to prepare a large salad for lunch each day with gourmet greens and a wide assortment of vegetables. Food is rotting in my fridge as I pour myself a second bowl of cereal each day at noon and vow to do better tomorrow. 
• Watching the Biggest Loser finale last night was great, but it seems like 90% of the former contestants they bring back have regained some serious weight. So what's the point of the show? 

You're now pretty much up to speed on the exciting life and times of Dena. Stay tuned for our next episode where Dena shares how she did some laundry and more than likely killed yet another plant. 

Dinner Negotiations

Last night as I was taking dinner out of the oven, Blair walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. 

"Why the hell is there an eggplant in here?" 

"That's for tomorrow's dinner," I said. "I found an eggplant recipe I want to try." 

He crossed his arms. "I don't like eggplant." 

"You don't know that. I just haven't done a very good job cooking it. That's why I want to try this recipe. It looks really good." 

A series of retching noises followed. 

"Hey!" I said. "What is our deal? I plan and cook the meals but you have to eat whatever I put in front of you, no questions asked." I paused. "And no attitude."

I heard muttering behind me.

"Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?"

"I said I'm pretty sure there's some sort of 'nasty' clause in our agreement. I shouldn't have to eat anything that's outright nasty." 

"There's no nasty clause!" 

"Well, there should be." 

The beauty of it is, I'm going to a dinner function tonight so I won't even be home to eat the eggplant. I told Blair this morning that his eggplant dinner would would be ready and waiting for him in the fridge. He nodded grimly and set out the door.

Better him than me. I've not had success with eggplant so chances are strong the dish will indeed turn out "nasty."