Meh.

I'm sick and grumpy. My family is out at the church tonight, rocking the Mexican potluck with my hot n' saucy Mexican Lasagne, but I'm here, hangin' with the guinea pig and the gerbil. And they aren't interested in my Mexican Lasagne, sadly, saucy though it may be.

Have watched the following movies whilst lying (laying? help me here, grade 6 grammar) in bed, snuffling, snorting and sniffling:

Thirty Blethering Points to the first person who can name all five movies without Googling. Ten extra points for telling me which is your fave, and why.*

*So, yeah, I'm reaching a bit with this post.

Randomness: #6 of 7

I always wear an apron while cooking and baking. There are no exceptions.

Randomness: #5 of 7

I hate cold salsa. I'm not sure why, unless it's the fact that tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices all keep best at room temperature. If I am going to eat some nachos and salsa, an event that occurs rather more frequently than it should, I heat up the salsa for a couple seconds in the microwave.

While Googling the correct temperature of salsa*, I was dismayed to find that I am a lazy nacho faker who doesn't know an avocado from a refried bean. For goodness' sake, let's just keep this whole microwave-the-salsa thing between us, shall we?

* room temperature, as it turns out

Not even a mouse. I hope.

My house is as silent as the grave right now. My children are both curled up on their beds, docile and content with their novels. Even the fridge has stopped humming. The phone has only rung once today. Once.

For crying out loud, will someone please pick a fight with their sister? This is starting to weird me out.

There, I've said it.

Have a look at the socks my sister sent me in the mail, for no particular reason:

Click photo to admire more closely.

Aren't they dandy?

Here's the thing about wearing finely detailed handknit socks: you can't help noticing, in social situations, that your socks are superior to everyone else's in the crowd. That knowledge gives me a certain élan, a panache, a confidence that no matter what stupid thing I may say or do, my socks are still mighty fine.

And that's something that can't be taken away.