I'm not entirely sure how it got to be August already AGAIN. Summer is half over and my tomatoes still haven't even developed little BBs. It's not right. But I did get several zucchini that I donated to the food shelf, though the response that I got when I dropped them off was "Oh no...zucchinis." I wondered if that were a commentary on the amount of zucchini they have already received or on the preferences of the people who get food from the food shelf. Perhaps next year I will ask them what kind of produce they would most desire rather than thinking solely about what kind of produce I can actually grow. Not that those two things will actually coincide in any way, but it might be a challenge worth pursuing.
Today I came home for lunch and was excited and surprised to see my brand spanking new social security card in the mail! They said two weeks, but it only took four business days! I felt a little like Navin Johnson in The Jerk (played by Steve Martin) - hopping around "my social security card is here! my social security card is here!" (This will make sense only if you have seen the movie and get the reference.) It's kind of surreal. I mean, yes, I knew that I did change my name, but on the other hand, IT WAS ACTUALLY DONE! I spent a little time practicing my new signature before signing the card, but really it's still a work in progress.
Marv has a group of wood carvers in town this week and we meet every evening for dinner. Today one of the women asked me if I ever practiced my signature when I was a kid. I said, Well, I practiced signing my first name and the last name of the boy that I loved at that moment, but my OWN name? No, not really. You know what's funny, is that now I can't even remember any of those boys I had a crush on in school. Even though I was so completely devastated that my love was unrequited at the time.
I got to dinner at The Depot a bit late tonight, but Marv was kind enough to save me some walleye. Several of the women (and none of the men, I'd like to point out) were shocked that I would eat "cold" walleye. (It was still lukewarm, by the way.) Who are these people and how did they get to be so bourgeois that they won't eat food if it isn't served piping hot? I explained to the woman next to me that it was fine and that I'm not a picky eater. And the woman across from me said, in a rather disdainful way, "How do you like cold walleye?" I said, "About as well as I like hot walleye." Which I guess sounded like I don't like walleye at all, but really only meant that I like it exactly the same. It doesn't matter to me. Someone actually suggested that I send it to the kitchen to have it heated. I mean REALLY!
It made me wonder a bit when we suddenly became so concerned with food that temperature was a potentially disqualifer for eating perfectly good food. I mean, it's not like it's mayo that's been sitting under a blazing sun for four hours. It's walleye that's been perfectly broiled and sitting on a plate for twenty minutes cooling to room temperature. Not only will it not kill me, but it tastes just fine.
So I ate my piece of walleye and half of a baked potato and the woman to my left says, "Well, you certainly polished that off!" And I was so sorry that she was leaving for home tonight and wouldn't be back tomorrow.
One of the women down the table eats like a little bird and always sends food home for our dogs, which is very sweet of her. I chose not to share with her that her walleye filet was lovely for lunch yesterday. And not for the dog. And guess what I'm having for lunch tomorrow? That's right ladies, not only will I eat a room temperature piece of fish, but I'll eat YOUR leftovers for lunch tomorrow. And I'll LIKE it!
Lunch today was less than stellar. We need to go grocery shopping, so what we have in the fridge is primarily condiments. So for lunch I had a piece of bread with chopped pickles, onions, tomato and mayo topped by swiss cheese and broiled. I can't recommend that one. But it was edible. (So you can only imagine that broiled walleye - at any temperature was a pretty big treat.)
I could have eaten the zucchini that was in the fridge, but it seemed like it would require more preparation than my lunch time would allow, so I figure I'll eat it Saturday when I can really look at it and contemplate my plan of attack. I also have a lot of rhubarb, so likely this weekend I'll whip something up with that.
I have my name-change get together Sunday. I hope my guests have appropriately low expectations, because I'm really not doing much outside of mowing the lawn and slicing up some things. I actually don't even know what I was thinking when I suggested it. I don't have parties, and I don't know what one does at a party. I suppose one grills? But I don't know if I even have propane. And where do people sit? Where do they eat? Ah, well, it's only Thursday night. I'll figure that out on Saturday. No need to get ahead of myself. Right now I just have to remember where I left my iced coffee and watch some TV. :)
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