Do you like wimpies? Bet if you're not a member of my present family - both sides - you probably don't know what that is.
No. It has nothing to do with being a wimp. Which to me means. . . scaredy cat, unable to handle a kind of something stressful looking that is a task at hand. (that's my definition. Not a dictionary's.)
Wimpies are: sloppy joes. So. This morning I made up a batch using the "old family recipe." It tastes better the second day. Getting ready for the family coming tomorrow. I made a big mess. (What else is new.) It called for 4 pounds of ground beef - started in one pot -one that Paul suggested. The ground beef filled it to the brim - so I transferred the raw beef to a larger pot. Started to chop onions and then decided to use the little electric chopper instead. Worked good. Needed parsley - got fresh and chopped some up using scissors. Found lots of spices needed. Began adding that to the brew. Then it looked like the ground beef cooked down enuf to use the smaller pot. So - I re-transferred it to the smaller pot. (It fits in the fridge). And then added LOTS of ketchup. (24 ozs.) yellow mustard, soy sauce, worcestershire sauce. (And other odd and assorted things)
I could hear myself saying - Don't leave a mess. Clean up as you cook. Clean. up. as. you. cook! Don't leave a mess. Well, there's much truth to the fact that my sloppy joes were sloppy. Two pots, one electric chopper, one chopping board, measuring spoons, etc. Spices out. Cooking utensils. Stirring spoons. They weren't wimpy - I needed a long time to clean up the kitchen. Such is my cooking life. Paul gave his seal of approval, though. On the wimpies.
Paul's planning on sampling the wimpies for lunch today when he gets home from doing list-making things. This didn't take much convincing on my part at all.
He's such a good man. He started cleaning it all up, but then Gracie threw up. Not once. Not twice, but several times. That caused our cleaning efforts to be directed elsewhere. It could have been caused by whatever - who knows. Just puppyhood. She still eats whatever she sees, if we can't get to her. She's settled down now. Sleeping on the futon. You think she'd learn.
2 comments:
Tyson used to eat whatever he saw too. For the first 9 months of life, he barfed up bones and leaves, and pooped plastic and rocks. I thought for sure he was going to wind up in surgery or worse because of that... but he made it just fine and doesn't eat too many bad things now at the age of 16 months.
I can see a difference in Gracie from a few months ago. She is "maturing?" but it's good to know that Tyson also improved! Thanks for writing.
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