Our oldest grandson (19 years old) came by yesterday to introduce us to his fiancee. She is a really nice young woman. But I think there may be something very wrong with her if she wants to join THIS family. Our neighbors German Shepard had just crossed the street and actually knocked on the front door to ask if our dog Sophie could come out and play. It made talking a little difficult, having a couple big dogs tearing around with ropes, balls and big sticks.
Our oldest granddaughter came up with them (she's 18 now). She was baking cookies in the kitchen and when I walked in she told me "Grandpa" (actually when she says it, it sounds like Ger-AM-paw. Probably has something to do with how much I tease her). "Grandpa, this will probably set the woman's rights movement back 50 years, but when I'm cooking in the kitchen, I feel more like a woman."
Oh my. Our daughter, GunDiva, has birthed and raised June Cleaver.
Later that evening when they had all left, I went into the kitchen to get Juanita and I a bowl of ice cream. All we had left was "cookies and cream". I'm not too thrilled with the stuff, so I looked for a way to disguise it. I found some pecans and sauteed them in an iron skillet with some honey and poured the caramelized honey/nut mix over the ice cream. I thought it was quite good.
That may be one of those "Mars/Venus" differences between the sexes. Many women seem to enjoy the nurturing side of preparing food and feeding people. Me, I cook so I get food the way I like it. I just don't like lousy food.
This morning I went out to see how our horses were doing after last nights 6 hour 50 mph+ wind storm. Juanita's two grays wandered up to the fence to ask me "What's up?" but Ranger came up to the fence kind of bug-eyed and on full alert. "What's wrong 'ol buddy?" I asked. He told me there was "A BIG MONSTER DOWN BY THE WATER HOLE!" I checked. Our 20' by 30' brown tarp had blown off the big hay bale on the trailer and had wrapped itself around the buck fence by the stream. I gathered it up and stuffed it under the trailer while Ranger carefully watched me from his hiding place behind ALL of the other horses.
He was still a little bug-eyed, and probably still thirsty, when I left. It's hard to drink if you're looking over your shoulder.