Burgers at the Bar

Hubby and I don't go to bars. We don't drink and we don't watch sports events in huge crowds. So bars are just loud, crowded spots where people get loaded and act in ways they normally wouldn't.

Consequently, we have missed a dining sport in our immediate neighborhood that is quite a treat. At little more than five minutes from our house is a sports bar that serves some of the best burgers in town and on Monday nights, they lower the price to a rock bottom $3 for any one of the their speciality burgers and fries. The burgers are served just right, with loads of toppings, and cooked to order. The fries are thick and tasty. The 5:30 to 7:30 crowd on Monday nights is family oriented, there to mainly to eat and savor the tasty beers that can be a nice accompaniment to the meal.

Last night we met our concert-going friends at Charlie Hoopers in Brookside, Kansas City, for the $3 burger specials, the diet cokes and ice teas (and one interesting beer served with an orange slice). We filled ourselves up with the bacon, pepper jack, grilled onions topped burgers and discussed the concerts we wanted to attend in the fall. We sat around and talked for an hour after dinner, while the wait staff keep supplying us with pitchers full of iced diet and tea. Then we ordered dessert -- only two on the menu, cherry cheese cake and Snickers' pie. The Snickers' pie was so good it was better than a real Snickers' bar.

We ran into old neighborhood friends we hadn't seen in years. We talked for two hours. And we had a grand old time. We plan on going back often.

Change the conversation

R-word.org - Change the conversation...

I found this link on another blog -- and was totally impressed. I have been reading about people friendly, people first, language for a while now.

If you agree, please pledge.

Monday is Laundry Day

My lord, you'd think I have a houseful of kids all under 10 -- not just two old foggy adults at retirement age. Once again, I'm trying to slay the laundry dragon.

I have a wonderful washer that holds super-sized loads (thank you, Hubby) and a very functioning dryer -- but they are both down 15 steep steps, in a basement that has become a dumping ground for old furniture, seasonal clothing. and craft supplies that should be thrown away. Neither Hubby nor I clean the basement anymore. Instead, twice (or once) a year, Hubby brings in his crew of workers and supervises their cleaning. In honesty, they only do a fair job -- but it's better than no job at all. So going into the basement is rather like facing up to a responsibility that I should shoulder but have no intention of doing (my heirs can take on the job) and I end up feeling guilty. Plus the stairs are deep and narrow and hurt my knees and back -- and carrying laundry up and down wears me out -- without having done a lick of laundry itself.

Once, when Hubby's knees were much better than they are now, he volunteered to do the wash. Except his idea was to put everything in one load and wash it all on hot. He did sort colors, kind of, so things did not come out all pink, but he wouldn't sort by delicates. So he shrunk all the nice tee-shirts and fine cottons. He also didn't think you had to remove things from the dryer for two to three weeks so everything got hideously wrinkled. He was quickly banned from laundry duty. Now his knees are so bad that he really can't navigate the stairs unless we have an emergency in the basement (leaking pipes, water heater pour water, drying not functioning, etc.).

Consequently, I have multiple excuses for not doing laundry. Still, in my heart I know that owning my own washer and dryer is a huge luxury and I should man-up to the chore and do it a lot more often.

Today, my first day of real summer vacation, in consequence of me not doing any laundry in May, is washer-woman day. Hubby hasn't a pair of shorts left and has resorted to wearing long pants -- something he is not complaining about, but I know that his summer costume is only shorts and sport shirts. Yesterday, a very hot 90 degrees, he was in long pants with a long sleeved shirt and I knew that I finally had to face up to the piles of laundry. Thankfully, we both have enough underwear to go six weeks or more without worrying.

I hate the sorting process. It requires me to bend over the huge piles of laundry stacked up in our bedroom, drag it to the bed, and stuff it into the laundry bags. Then those heavy bags have to be dragged down the steep, narrow stairs (I can't carry them) and resorted into the washer. Even worse is the drying process of folding, hanging, and turning things right-side out. Finally everything has to be dragged back up those steep, narrow stairs.

If I ever find that fairy godmother, the first thing (okay, one of the top 10 things ) I'm asking for is a laundry room on the same floor as the bedroom. I can only imagine how sweet that would be! But then what would be my excuse for not doing this "dirty" chore?

Starting Summer

The final day of the district workshop ended after only 3 hours -- more with a whimper than a bang. We were to list all the resources available to the high school English teachers in the district -- and that was such a short list that we all went home right before lunch.

Finally I got the feeling of freedom and release. I now have three delicious weeks before grad summer school starts. Three weeks of going to bed at 3 a.m. and getting up at 11. My internal clock is thrilled.

However, today I trudged out at 6:30, took a bath, got dressed and Hubby and I went garage saling for a brief period before it got too hot. We never left our neighborhood, but I did find a couple of cute things to give as sock gifts to the Houston crew over Christmas.

While Hubby computed, I did a bit of grocery shopping for things I want to eat this summer -- cereal (Grape Nuts, Rice Krispies). Then I started cleaning a very wee corner of the bedroom.

I also finished the second of the Stieg Larsson Millennium series. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo was absolutely riveting. The Girl Who Played With Fire was not quite as good, but that's rather like saying "this is a honking big perfect diamond, just not the Hope diamond." The two books are simply so good you can't put them down once you start reading. I am chomping to get the third in the series, but it's not yet out in paperback and I'm reluctant to pay for a hardback that I will have trouble holding (carpel tunnel makes reading paperbacks almost required for me).

I understand that Larsson left a draft of the 4th book on his computer but his family and girlfriend are fighting over who has rights to the book. And there are also outlines for book 5 & 6. I'm really sorry that he died so unexpectedly (and young) before we (the readers) could find out what was planned for the future of Mikael and Lisbeth.

It's going to be a short summer -- for those outside education who believe we (teachers and students) actually get three months off, it's certainly not true. Plus, remember, teachers are only paid for 10 months of the year -- NOT twelve. But we do need time to recharge our batteries and feed our souls and take care of family matters. I dread thinking what a 12-month school year will actually look like. I know it's coming, though, and sooner, rather than later. Still, THIS summer, I'm going to enjoy myself for the next three weeks, and like Scarlett O'Hara let tomorrow take care of itself.

One More Day

The air came back on for the Wednesday session in the building without windows. That was helpful. Plus there was Internet access. Even better the Wednesday workshop session was challenging and interesting. The participants were engaged and productive.

Today, even with air, the participants were snooty, air-headed, and disengaged. The youngsters thought they knew it all . . . and the old timers were too tired to resist.

I hated the day. I hated the work. I hated the process.

One day to go! I hope I can make it.

Back to School

The teacher workshop for this first week after school closing is being held in a 1970's built (ugly!) school. This means three floors, no elevator service, and no windows.

Today was our first day to top 90 degrees -- and with the high humidity of the mid-west it was very hot.

We started the meeting in the basement (what they called the first floor -- guests enter on the second floor). It was announced they were working on the air. At 9:00 it was already 88 degrees in the building.

At 10:00 they released us to meetings on the 3rd floor. I'm schlepping a heavy Apple laptop which I was required to bring, plus all the curriculum junk they had requested -- and my lunch. On the 3rd floor we find out that besides losing air-conditioning, they also had no Internet service in the building. Can the laptop.

By noon the heat was at 93 degrees inside the building. No cool place could be found to eat my lunch. They did deliver bottled water to us -- at room temp.

At 3 p.m. the temp inside the building was at 98 degrees and we were all feeling sick.

But they wouldn't release us early -- we ran right up to 3:30.

True to my form, my cell phone wasn't functioning and Hubby had driven me to the site, not to pick me up until 3:30. Otherwise I'd had walked out.

As it was, by the time I got home all I could do was go to bed and sleep away my misery. Now, of course, it's 1 a.m. and I'm not sleepy at all. However, you can guarantee that by 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, I'll be exhausted again.

No guarantee of air tomorrow either. I'm leaving the laptop at home. I might wear underwear and I might not.

Phooey!

Relaxing

First we took in the breakfast buffet across the state line. Then this afternoon we saw Letters to Juliet at the local movie-plex and it was delightful. I'm ready to travel to Italy -- if only it didn't require a 12+ hour plane ride. After the movie we stopped by our favorite grocery and picked up a brisket and some onion soup mix and a huge round steak for later in the week. Also Hubby got a shopping cart full of fruit and came home to make us a luscious fruit salad while I cooked the brisket in the oven. After a little nap I paid the bills on line to round out the day. Now it will be an evening of PBS TV watching (all the Brit coms, of course) and computer games. Summertime is proving to be welcome respite.