No miracles today. It was the kind of day I went to the drugstore, the grocery store, the hardware. I folded the laundry that had been in the dryer for two days and ran the dishwasher--finally. I replaced the light bulb that has been out in the panel in the bathroom forever--very embarrassing when I had company, but I didn't notice it until that day. It was a globe light in a panel of them over the long mirror and built-in cabinets that Jamie thinks I should take out and I refuse because they're so characteristic of a 1920s house. I napped, I read a manuscript, I wrapped Christmas presents and answered e-mails. Ho, hum!
You know how when you have a cold no food really appeals? That's how I felt all day, so I thought I'd do a grilled cheese for lunch. Burned it again! This time so badly it couldn't be scraped and saved, so I ended with a sort of open-faced melted cheese and cooked tomato sandwich. Not my idea of comfort food. Besides, I've heard once you burn a pan, it will always burn in the same spot--I hope not because this was a severe burn in my iron skillet. I cooked chopped sirloin in it tonight and it seemed okay.
Last night I said I was going to watch junk TV while wrapping presents. Even junk TV is so worthless I'm better off with my own thoughts. There was football, the Simpsons (which I despise) and I can't remember what else, but Desperate Housewives seemed the best choice and it was so awful I turned it off. Tonight I was going to wrap again and remembered that I used to watch Two-and-a-Half Men, but even the thought seemed so silly I wrapped packages in silence. Have I suddenly grown up at the age of 70 or has my taste matured? I love watching news programs, documentaries, etc., but the rest of it is not worth the money I spent having AT&T wire the house. Oh, well, there's the food channel, but still, give me a good book any time.
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